


The Quiet Place In Your Heart

by agoodtuckering



Series: Carving A New Life [6]
Category: The Thick of It (TV)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, F/M, First Kiss, Heartache, Mutual Pining, Post-Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:22:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21635059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agoodtuckering/pseuds/agoodtuckering
Summary: Malcolm seeks out Nicola for a conversation that they've been close to having a number of times now. The only problem is that James, her now ex-husband, shows up.
Relationships: Nicola Murray/Malcolm Tucker
Series: Carving A New Life [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1470488
Comments: 19
Kudos: 41





	The Quiet Place In Your Heart

There came a knock at the door around dinnertime. Luckily enough, Nicola had already had an early dinner with her family. She wandered over towards the door, peeping through the glass first before pulling the door open.

“Malcolm? I… What are you doing here?”  
  
It was Saturday. Yesterday had been the party at Julius’ home. Yesterday they’d _almost kissed. Again._ Yesterday felt so far away. 

He looked as if he was at a loss for words. She stepped aside and let him come in. Josh and Ben were playing something together in the living room. They were sat on the carpet together, the older of the two trying — _and failing_ — to explain the rules to the board game. It was endearing, at the very least, and he certainly had a lot of patience. 

Her children were _good_ kids. Wild at times, maybe, but there was a love of love there. He knew that she felt that she had failed them so many times, but she was a fantastic mum. She made it work. In spite of their shite father and his shite morals and shite manners, they had grown up polite, loving, and good to the world and nice to strangers. They wanted amazing things for themselves and were doing their best to get there, each of them.

For a moment, Nicola watched him. What should she say? They were on the cusp of something. Maybe seeing that she had a family was a reminder to him. A reminder that he wanted to stay very fucking far away from all of this. What if he’d come today to apologize, and to take a step away? Far, far away. 

“Katie,” Nicola called. “Ella. Can you two get your bags and things ready, please? Your father and grandmother will be here soon.”

The two girls appeared in the room, both of them looking a bit _wide-eyed_ the moment they saw Malcolm there. He was, for his own part, polite. He waved and said, “Hello.”

“C’mon, Ben, Josh,” Katie said, somehow managing to wrangle her brothers upstairs to retrieve their bags. Ella followed after the three of them. 

“They spend every other weekend with their father now,” she explained. “Sometimes every weekend. They’ll go out for dinner, but come home later in the evening. But they’re all going to their grandparents’ this weekend. They miss them.” She was rambling, she knew, and he just let her. 

After a long moment, Malcolm reached out for her fingers. 

Her mouth clamped shut, wide eyes — _and really, her children looked so much more like her than they had ever resembled James_ — finding his features.

“Malcolm…?” 

She sounded so unsure of herself. He moved closer, finally, _finally_ kissing her softly. She couldn’t even respond at first, so surprised was she, and he drew away to whisper to her. “Should’ve done that a long fuckin’ time ago,” he told her, so sure of himself. Then he let his lips drop another kiss to hers and she finally began to return the gesture. It felt so fucking _right._

He smelled like heaven. His aftershave, his cologne, his soap. Everything about him. He smelled exactly like he had since the day she met him. She hated herself for knowing that, for remembering, for _noticing._ But there it was. The bare truth of it was that she’d been in love with him for longer than she would _ever_ admit. 

Finally, they drew apart. She didn’t want her children to accidentally wander in and find their mother snogging a strange Scottish man in the foyer. Not that they _didn’t_ already know who Malcolm was. He’d met them ages ago. He saw _a lot_ of them when she was Leader. 

Katie and Ella, he thought, hated him. They hated him with good reason, for practically ruining his mother’s career. He couldn’t blame them at all, if they did.

“I just needed tae know how that felt,” he murmured, his voice softer and sweeter than she had ever heard it before. It practically melted her insides. She blinked up at him, still unable to process all of this. Last night she had resigned herself to nothing ever happening between them, despite the sparks between them. 

She touched his chest gently, a hand patting the soft material of his jumper. He was dressed nicely too, she noted. A deep, dark navy colored jumper over a crisp button down, dark dress trousers, and well-loved wing tips. Was this casual dress for him? _Dear god,_ she loved a man who dressed nicely.

_Her ex-husband hadn’t ever been that way._

Speaking of which, there came a knock at the door only seconds later. Thank fuck there wasn’t any way they could have been seen through the glass of the door. They were standing in the hallway, too far away for that. 

“Hey, guys,” she called up the stairs, “your father is here. Come on! Get your things!”

She took a deep breath, put on a fake smile, and opened the door, somewhat prepared now for all that would happen. Malcolm was here. Malcolm was _here._ James would see that and no doubt he would make a nasty comment about it.

Malcolm noticed, his hand subtly reaching out to give her back a wee caress before she pulled the heavy door open. She took comfort in that gentle, tender touch. And yes, James was there. His eyes narrowed the moment he saw Malcolm, too.

His mother, of course, was waiting in the car. Nicola had been foolishly hoping she would be there to greet her as well. It was too chilly out, though. 

The kids came tromping down the staircase. Katie and Ella were carrying everyone’s bags. There was a queue of hugs, as always, and then they filed outside to leave. Katie lingered behind, though, and gave her mum an extra hug. Without any of the men hearing, she whispered, “You deserve to be happy. Remember that?” Then, after, “I’ll make sure everyone’s okay. It’ll be nice to see Gram again. I’ll give her a huge hug from you, alright?” 

Nicola only hugged her daughter all the tighter and then let her go, nodding in response to everything. Her throat felt tight. Katie knew. She knew how her mum felt about the previous Dark Knight of Downing Street. _Smart girl._

Once the kids were piling into the car, James said, “Funny, Nicky… I figured you would have at least waited to go back to fucking him for a while. How did it go while he was in prison? Hard, I imagine. No conjugal visits to be had an all that. Bet the sex was fantastic when he got out, though. Even though he’s a fucking dried up husk of a person.”  
  
Malcolm was too floored to even speak. 

_“I never cheated on you,”_ Nicola said in a dangerously low voice. _“The same can’t be said for you.”_

Suddenly Malcolm felt as if he should be elsewhere. This wasn’t a conversation he should have been a part of. But James turned to him, pulling him into the argument. “Isn’t she a good fuck? It’s the only thing I miss about being married to her.”

Malcolm’s hackles immediately went up. “Ex-fuckin’-scuse me? We have never fucked. She never cheated on ye, ye massive twat. Just because ye couldn’t keep it in yer fuckin’ pants doesnae mean that she was the same way. She never cheated on ye. And ye aren’t married anymore, so why do ye care who she spends her free time with these days?”

James only laughed. “Yeah, right. Funny thing if you think I’ll believe that. So how was prison? Did you start to enjoy taking it up the fucking arse? I would’ve thought you’d have come out of prison a proper faggot. You’re so fucking skinny and harmless. You’re practically a twink. Bet they loved that.”

Malcolm was seething. 

Katie called from the car, “C’mon, Dad! Let’s get going.”

Thank fuck the kids hadn’t heard the altercation at the front door. Malcolm was thankful. _If_ he believed in God, he'd have been thanking him up, down, and sideways. 

Nearly five minutes later and Nicola was closing the front door, an eerie silence befalling the house now. She let out a long sigh, trying her hardest to keep her emotions in check when all that she wanted to do was have a good cry. 

Malcolm stood by the door, hands in his heavy, warm overcoat pockets.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I came over at a bad time. I shouldn’t have. I should’ve called.”

Nicola was bending over, retrieving board game pieces, and tidying up the living room. Malcolm stood there, admiring the view, and patiently waiting for her to speak. When she did, her voice sounded a bit off. 

“It’s okay,” she said honestly. “It was going to happen, either way. Him seeing you here, with me. One day it would have happened. I don’t regret it. I’m only… sorry for the comments he made about your time in prison. That was totally uncalled for. And you are not a dried up husk of a human being, Malcolm.” 

Macolm chuckled. “Most of the fuckin’ things he says are. I’m beginning tae see that.”

He came over, slowly approaching her so that he wouldn’t frighten her. As she stood up again, having put the board game back together and closed the box’s lid, he drew her into his arms for a gentle hug. She seemed to melt into him. He heard a telltale sniffle and suddenly his heart was being torn from his fucking chest. How did this woman do this to him?

“I’m doomed to ye, ye know?” he teased, laughing softly as he stroked her hair. Her face was buried in his chest and they stayed that way for a while. “Ye never fuckin’ cheated on him,” he added. “Yer a good woman, Nic’la. Ye really are. Maybe a shite politician, hey, but a _good woman._ Loyal. Loving. Ye go above and beyond to make other people happy.” 

She laughed softly through her tears. He felt that it was a tiny victory. 

“Why did you come here, Malcolm? Why did you kiss me?”

Her question was honest, exhaustion evident in her voice. He thought perhaps it was time to be honest about _everything._ They’d touched on it, more than once, and last night she had spilled her heart to him and begged for him to kiss her. She deserved the truth. 

“Because ye were right,” he said quietly. “We deserve some happiness. Because I want tae… tae be the one tae make ye happy. Fuck me, I sound so soppy. But it’s true. And I’m tired of fighting this. I’m tired of pretending that I don’t… that I don’t care for ye, or that we cannae make this work somehow. We can. It can work.”

She tilted her head back to glimpse up at him. All red eyes and wet cheeks, her hands landing on his chest, still lingering close to him. She looked beautiful like that, though. She would always be beautiful in his eyes. 

“I should’ve kissed ye the night ye won Leader,” he confessed softly. “Hell, I should’ve kissed ye the night I begged ye not to leave for Connecticut and turn in yer resignation. I should’ve kissed ye before that. That night at the Party Conference, when James bum-dialed ye, the night we came… so close.” 

Her eyes were roaming his face but still she remained silent. 

“I said that I was doomed to ye, and I am. Yer the only one I’ll ever be able tae… give myself tae. Completely. We’re in too fuckin’ deep as it is.”

Saying nothing, still, she wordlessly reached up for a kiss. He let her lead it, let her guide him towards her and closer. She nibbled at his lower lip, explored his mouth with her own, and let her hands trail over his chest and eventually up to his shoulders. Her fingers moved through his soft curls, leaving him purring in response. 

“I need to tell you something, Malcolm,” she finally said, albeit a bit breathlessly. 

He was fighting to catch his own breath, gasping a wee bit, and his eyebrows rose. “What is it?” He sounded hoarse, raspy, and he cleared his throat before adding, “Not gonna tell me yer dyin’ of some unknown disease or something, right? I’m not sure I couldn’t handle going through that a second time.”

The reminder of his late wife’s death made her heart ache. She shook her head a bit, then replied, “No, it’s nothing like that. I just wanted to say… I love you.” 

His breath caught in his throat. 

She smoothed out one of his eyebrows with a tender thumb, giving him a gentle smile. “It’s true,” she said simply. “I have for a long time. If that makes me utterly fucking mad, that’s okay too. I don’t mind.” 

He kissed her softly, his eyes falling shut. The tenderness behind it all was a shock to her. “I never… I never expected you to be so delicate with me,” she confessed with a soft, amused laugh. “I expected you to be full of rage and vitriol and BDSM. This mouth of yours is capable of a lot more than just verbal lashings and horrors, apparently.” 

He laughed at that, his nose brushing her brow before laying a kiss down there as well. “My tongue is capable of far more than just verbal lashings and horrors, darlin’,” he teased her. “And dinnae get me wrong, I love a good, rough fuck from time to time. And a bit of bondage and S&M. But there’s tenderness somewhere inside of me too. I didn’t know where it had gone, but apparently ye’ve found it.”

Her breath caught, her stomach doing a funny little dip and twist. Fuck, that was nice. Heat found her cheeks as she looked up at him, chuckling softly for him. Ignoring that first part, she simply said, “I like this tender you. It’s new.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, his eyes falling shut again. Then, as if he’d struggled with the words since all this began, he began to speak. There was something that he _had_ to say. “I didn’t think I could or should be loved. When I replaced you with Dan fuckin’ Miller, I did it the way I had for a reason. Ye trusted me then. Ye loved me then. I knew there was something between us. And by totally eviscerating you, I reminded myself that I wasn’t worthy of it. I made sure I _killed_ our relationship. I murdered whatever we had so badly and deeply, fucked it all as roughly as I could, just so ye would never care for me again. Because how could ye love me if I was _that man?_ How could ye care for such a monster?”

She drew away, shocked and aghast. _It was overkill._ She’d always wondered why. Now she knew. And the reality of it was a notion she had never _once_ considered. 

“Malcolm,” she said, her hands gently touching his face. She cupped his cheeks and held him there, the sadness on his face breaking her heart in two. “You didn’t succeed. Let me tell you that. You couldn’t have stopped me from caring about you any more than you could have done the same about me. You’re ridiculous. You hurt me. You really did. But I never hated you. I wanted to, but I couldn't.” 

Without further ado, he kissed her. This kiss was different, though. It was needy and passionate. Somehow, they wound up pressed against the wall. It felt so freeing to be in his arms. He held her like she was something precious, but not as if she could break like glass. She was strong. He was the one who might shatter, not her.

She couldn’t explain it. It was perfection. They slowly began undressing one another, making their way upstairs and dropping tops and belts and various other articles of clothing in the hallway on the way to her bedroom. 

His warm, bare skin against hers was worth all the fucking strife and heartache and time between them. It was worth all of it and more.

And when he was buried inside of her, she was _lost._ They were moaning and crying out in pleasure and whimpering in unison. Fuck but he was such a good lover. He was attentive and patient and had her coming more than once. Four times, actually. She _counted._

Once with just his clever fingers, twice with his head between her thighs, paying her the utmost attention, and once as he was buried inside of her. It was _sexy._ He enjoyed the things her ex-husband had hated. James had never taken the time to make sure she was just as satisfied. All he’d cared about was his own pleasure. And Malcolm, _Malcolm,_ he wanted to wear her out and make sure he’d pressed all of her buttons and left her throat hoarse from screaming his name. 

Their second time, during the night, was _unbelievable._ It was rough and needy and downright filthy. Her neighbors must have begun to hate her. She’d left scratchmarks along his shoulders and back, and he’d left bitemarks all along her chest and inner thighs. 

In the morning, she’d almost expected to wake and find him gone. As it was, the bed was empty and cold beside her. Resigning herself to the reality that he might have run away, she pulled on her dressing robe and fuzzy slippers and made her way down the staircase and towards the kitchen. 

There he was, though. He was swearing at her coffee pot and trying to figure out how it worked. He had obviously showered that morning and redressed. His hair was still damp and she swooned for a moment before daring to wander further into the room.

“Good morning,” she said softly, her voice raspy and hoarse.

His hand flew to his chest. “Fuck me,” he said, breathless. “Dinnae fuckin’ scare me like that, woman. Please. Fuck... I was just going tae make us some coffee. I hope ye don’t mind, I had a shower. I smell like fuckin’ fruits and flowers now. Jesus, lass.”

She only smiled. _This_ was worth everything. Maybe they could finally be happy now.

_Maybe they had good timing, after all._

**Author's Note:**

> Did I surprise you guys by only tagging this as "first kiss"? Heh. Good. I'm always trying to catch you guys off guard. I'm really hoping this was just as satisfying for you to read as it was for me to write.


End file.
